


The Wrong Guy

by Inell



Series: 2017 Prompt Challenge [26]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alive Laura Hale, Alternate Universe, First Kiss, First Meetings, Getting Together, Graduate Student Derek, Laura Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Minor Laura Hale/Lydia Martin, Minor Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes, Pining, Pining Derek Hale, Police Officer Laura Hale, Police Officer Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 07:36:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9426935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: Stiles is having a drink at his favorite bar when a gorgeous guy says they’re supposed to be meeting. Stiles thinks Derek has the wrong guy, but Derek insists he’s the right one.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said: Derek/Stiles - “Are you meeting someone here? Because.. I think I’m that person.”
> 
> Nonnie! I hope you enjoy this one! Fic #26 in my 2017 Prompt Challenge

Rooney’s is a great place to get a drink after shifts end. It’s half-way between the subway station and his apartment, so Stiles will stop in several nights a week. Occasionally, one of his roommates will meet him for an early dinner, but Allison’s working third shift this week, Isaac is in the middle of his four-three, and Erica’s got a big work project that’s making her come home late all week.

That means Stiles is on his own when he leaves the precinct. He and his partner, Laura, have been working a robbery case since Tuesday, and he’s pretty frustrated that they can’t find the evidence they need to link the owner to the theft. His gut is telling him it’s an inside job, but there’s nothing to corroborate that yet. So, it’s a definitely a night for Rooney’s. A beer and some cheese fries will make it all better. Besides, he’s off tomorrow, so he doesn’t have to worry about getting up at the ass crack of dawn to go jogging.

The subway isn’t too crowded, which is a minor miracle that Stiles isn’t going to question. Normally, when he’s taking it home from work, it’s full of people going home from office jobs and talking in cell phones right by his ear. It’s a peaceful ride today, even if he has to stand most of the way to his stop. When he steps onto the street, his phone buzzes, and he starts a texting conversation with Laura. They get along great, and she’s totally on board with the dude arranging the robbery, so they toss some theories back and forth until he arrives at Rooney’s.

Once there, he tells her she should come down, maybe bring Lydia since he rarely sees his supposed best friend anymore now that she’s shacking up with Laura. He introduced them, so there should totally be gratitude and celebrations in his honor, but Lydia is busy with grad school and rarely even has time for herself, so he tries not to get _too_ sullen. The text that Laura sends back says he should hang around for a bit because she’s going to send him a surprise. In Laura speak, that probably means she and Lydia will drop by for a drink, which is nice.

Despite being in such a huge crowded city like Manhattan, Stiles still feels alone more often than not. He’s got amazing friends, wonderful people who help make his life satisfying, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t jealous that they’re dating people as awesome as they are while he’s single. Since he doesn’t buy into that whole ‘you must be involved to be happy’ bullshit, he actually _is_ happy, though. He loves his job, his friends, even his apartment with the bedroom the size of his bathroom back in Beacon Hills. Not literally but it sure as hell feels that way sometimes.

Rooney’s is busy when he steps inside. A quick scan finds an empty stool at the bar, so he sets off to claim it. He manages to grab it right before a guy that smells like pot and patchouli, offering a friendly smile as he slides his ass into it.

“Evening, Detective.” Boyd nods a greeting and slides a coaster over. The title makes pot guy veer in the opposite direction instead of trying to make a fuss.

“Good work there, Boyd.” Stiles drums his fingers on the bar along with the chorus for ‘Pour Some Sugar on Me’ that’s playing from the old-fashioned jukebox in the corner. It’s full of cheesy eighties music that Stiles totally loves. “Can you get me a beer? Whatever’s on tap is fine.”

Boyd arches a brow. “No fruity concoction with suggestive names? Are you feeling alright? Should I text Erica?”

“Ha-ha. You’re so funny,” Stiles deadpans. “You hate when I order naughty cocktails, so I thought I’d take it easy on you today.”

“I think I’ll text Erica,” Boyd mutters, giving Stiles a suspicious look before he gets a mug and chooses one of the beers on tap. “Anything else, body snatched Stiles?”

“Cheese fries. With bacon.” Stiles takes the mug from Boyd and tries a sip. It’s a little bitter and has that watered down taste that beer usually has. “Tastes kind of like bitter piss.”

“You’d know?” Boyd arches a brow. “I’m starting to be less concerned because it appears no body snatching has happened, after all.”

“I’m not into golden showers, but, even if I was, I wouldn’t kiss and tell, big guy.” Stiles playfully leers. “I’m not as TMI as Erica.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely Stiles.” Boyd throws an olive at him, and Stiles moves his head so he can catch it in his mouth, chomping down happily as Boyd huffs a laugh and goes to wait on someone else at the other end of the bar.

Since it’ll take time to get his fries, he looks around cautiously before he leans over the bar and gets some of the cherries and olives and orange slices that Boyd foolishly leaves within reaching distance. Boyd bought out the owner of Rooney’s two years ago, around the same time Stiles got promoted to detective, and they’ve become those kind of friends that can give each other a tough time but are totally there in a time of need. Helps a lot that Boyd started dating Erica last year because then he was sort of obligated to put up with Stiles.

The sound of someone clearing their throat behind him makes him sit back on his stool and spin it around. He blinks when he sees an incredibly attractive guy standing there. Like on a scale from cute to smoking, this guy’s off the chart. Rooney’s isn’t really that trendy yuppie kind of place that models or famous people ever visit, so Stiles can’t help but wonder if this guy is lost.

“Are you meeting someone here?” The guy looks nervous and maybe even a little shy. “Because I think I’m that person.”

“Dude, I _wish_ I was meeting someone like you,” Stiles says, watching the guy look taken aback by his honesty. “But I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

“My name isn’t Dude. It’s Derek.” He studies Stiles’ face intently before he looks at his phone. “You’re the person I’m supposed to be meeting.”

“Uh, _no_ , I’m not. I stopped by for a drink and cheese fries after work.” Stiles shakes his head. “If I was meeting some living, breathing version of a Greek god come to life, I’d have changed into skinny jeans that show off my ass and a shirt made of some soft material that you wanted to touch. Not my work suit with a mustard stain on the pocket.”

“I don’t think your ass needs any help in being shown off,” Derek says, blinking suddenly as he seems to realize what he said. Stiles watches in fascination as his ears turn red. “I mean, you were bent over the bar; how was I _not_ supposed to look?”

“You can look all you want, but you still have the wrong guy.” Stiles shrugs. “Are you sure you’re meeting someone at Rooney’s? I mean, I love this bar, but it’s not really a hot model first date kind of place.”

“Hot model?” Derek’s eyebrows are totally judging him. Stiles has experience in eyebrow language. Being partnered with Laura for two years has made him proficient in eyebrow talk. “I’m not a model.”

“Yeah, maybe not, but you _could_ be. This isn’t the type of place guys who look like you frequent.” Stiles pops a cherry into his mouth and chews. “There’s this place down the road, called Breeze, that’s probably where your dude is waiting.”

Derek groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose before holding his phone up to show Stiles a photo of himself. Stiles stops chewing and stares, looking at Derek suspiciously. “You aren’t the wrong guy. You’re the right guy,” Derek tells him. “This is who I’m meeting, and the person I assumed was planning to meet me.”

“Who are you?” Stiles narrows his eyes. “Where did you get that picture? It’s not on my Facebook or anywhere public. Have you been stalking me? God, I hope not because that is going to be totally embarrassing if I have to arrest my own stalker without even realizing I _had_ one.”

“I’m not a stalker.” Derek glares at him. “I’m beginning to think I’m a gullible idiot, though. ‘Go meet the cute guy you’ve been asking me about for months, Der. He’s excited to meet you. You two are going to hit it off. I just know it.’ Yet she obviously didn’t bother even telling you she was setting us up.”

“You’ve been asking about me for months?” Stiles takes a gulp of the pissy beer, grimacing slightly before looking back at Derek. “ _Why_? How? I mean, what?”

“Damn, I need a drink.” Derek shoves up to the bar between Stiles and the lady sitting on the stool next to him, who looks pissed off until she catches sight of Derek. Then, she leers in a way that rubs Stiles the wrong way.

“Hey, eyes off his chest. He’s a person, you know? Not just a nice set of pecs and biceps.” Stiles waves a finger at her. “I’m all for equality, but objectification harms all genders and non-genders.” When he looks back at Derek, he sees his lips quirked up in an amused smile. “Don’t look at me like that. I’d have said the same thing to you if you’d been staring at her chest.”

“Like what?” Derek is still smiling, and he looks even more gorgeous than before. “I just finally understood why Laura loves you. I wasn’t sure, at first, because you talk so much, and you don’t _listen_ , but I can see it now.”

“I don’t talk a lot! And I do, too, listen.” Stiles stops and blinks. “Laura? As in Laura Hale?”

“My big sister.” Derek taps his phone. “The one who sent me your photograph with instructions to meet you here at six. The one who has spent the last several months teasing me because I saw your picture on her mantle and wanted to know more about you.”

“Hold up. _Months_?” Stiles pulls his phone out of his pocket and clicks the button, listening it to dial. When he hears it answer, he starts talking. “You are dead to me, Laura Hale. Dishonor on you! Dishonor on your cow! Dishonor on your whole family!”

“Alright, Mushu, what’s got your panties in a knot?” Laura asks, not sounding at all threatened or upset.

“I’m not wearing panties, thanks very much. And my underwear isn’t knotted.” Stiles watches Derek choke on the whiskey whatever he’s sipping now. “I just got your surprise.”

“Oooh. Derek actually had the balls to show?” Laura sounds gleeful. “If you hurt him, I’ll bury you with Jimmy Hoffa.”

“He said he’s asked you about me for months, Laura Hale. _Months_.” Stiles taps his fingers on the bar when he realizes ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ is now playing. “Yet I never heard anything about your gorgeous brother whose smile is like angels singing. Why is that?”

“Because I wasn’t sure I wanted to share you,” Laura says matter-of-factly. “You’re the best partner I’ve had, plus a good friend. Derek is totally getting the same Hoffa warning because there’s potential for heartbreak on either side. I just realized it was better to let you two meet and see if it works the way I think it will or at least rule it out so he stops crushing like a puppy dog on this cute guy he’s never even met.”

“Huh.” Stiles considers it and reluctantly can understand why she might not want to complicate things by introducing them. It’s the same reason he held off several months before letting her meet Lydia despite knowing pretty early on that they’d make a good match. “Fine. You’re no longer dead to me, but you’re still dishonored. You can become honored again by picking me up Monday with a caramel frappe with extra whipped cream.”

“I think I’ll earn my honor back without bribery if you and my baby bro end up banging,” Laura points out.

“There will be no banging. We just met. Oh my God, Laura. Just because I’m bi, doesn’t mean I’m into casual sex with every hot person I run into.” Stiles groans. “And I just said that out loud where your incredibly good-looking brother could hear it, so I think any chance of banging is now completely gone. Thanks for that.”

“I do what I can, boo!” Laura makes kissy noises over the phone. “You’re lucky because Derek thinks you’re hot, so he’ll probably overlook the dorky personality thing in order to get into your pants. Now, speaking of getting into pants, my lady love is home, so toodles.”

“Toodles, sweetie pie,” Stiles says, hanging up and then sneaking a peek over at Derek. “I, uh, had to let Laura know my displeasure.”

“I heard.” Derek stares at him with the kind of focus that makes Stiles feel a little flushed. “So, what’s the verdict then? Wrong guy or right guy?”

“Right guy.” Stiles smiles wryly. “That is, if I haven’t run you off by talking too much and, what was it? Not listening?”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Derek smiles slightly. “It takes more than that to run me off once I’ve decided I want something.”

“That’s a relief because I’ll probably get worse before I get better,” Stiles admits, shrugging a shoulder. “I’m not the easiest person to date.”

“Neither am I, so I’d say we both have a challenge ahead of us.” Derek leans in a little closer. “You know, you were right. This is a great bar but definitely not the best location for a first date. Fortunately, I happen to know of a little café nearby that _is_ a good first date location. Interested?”

“Boyd,” Stiles motions him over, “cancel my cheese fries. I’ve got a date.”

“Congratulations. Or condolences. With Stilinski, I never know which one to offer.” Boyd is talking to Derek, who looks more amused than offended, before he takes the mug from in front of Stiles and waves him off. “It’s on the house. Go have fun. Use condoms. Text Erica if you’re staying out all night.”

“I hate my friends,” Stiles groans, throwing a leftover olive at Boyd, who just smirks at him. This is totally revenge for the time Stiles walked in on Boyd and Erica getting horizontal on the living room sofa and sprayed them with the plant mister.

“He wants you to be safe and careful. That’s not something worthy of hate,” Derek says, finishing the rest of his drink before throwing a twenty on the bar.

“So, are you rich like Laura? I mean, do you slum it by actually working the way she does or do you live on the trust fund from the dead grandparents?” Stiles asks as they make their way out of Rooney’s.

“My entire family is wealthy, but I do work.” Derek looks at him curiously. “Well, in a way. I’m a grad student in Atlantic World History at NYU focusing on Atlantic Diasporas during the sixteenth and twentieth centuries. I plan to research and write books when I finish my PhD.”

“This is so totally not fair. You’re gorgeous _and_ smart?” Stiles sighs dramatically. “And we could have been dating for months?”

“I moved here at the start of the term for grad school,” Derek says. “So, yeah, it’s been several months. But it was probably better Laura didn’t introduce us. I needed to get settled in and acclimated to the courses I’m teaching and TA-ing for before dating. She set us up tonight, so I’m willing to forgive her.”

“That’s alright. I’m not, so I’ll make sure she pays for interfering in our love lives.” Stiles grins. “I’m thinking I can get several caseloads of paperwork from her if this date goes well. And maybe I can torture her with sex details eventually.”

Derek stops and presses Stiles against the glass window of an electronics store. They’re almost the same height, just a slight tilt of Stiles’ chin is all that’s needed for Derek to kiss him. Stiles is surprised that Derek’s being so forward, he seemed a little shy and nervous, but there’s nothing shy about this kiss. It’s a kiss with intent, one of those that has Stiles’ lips tingling and his pulse racing despite it being close-mouthed and dry. “Sorry. I’ve just really wanted to do that since you told me you were the wrong guy and I couldn’t resist any longer,” Derek murmurs, ears reddening as he starts to step back.

Stiles reaches out to grab his coat and tugs him closer. “Do you hear me demanding apologies?” He leans in and kisses Derek this time, getting in a good hair grip and licking at his mouth until his lips part. Then Stiles deepens the kiss, hands moving behind him, gripping his back and ass, firm thigh between his legs, the sound of wolf whistles reminding him they’re in the middle of the sidewalk in Manhattan.

They pull apart, and Derek runs his fingers through his hair, trying to fix it where Stiles mussed it up. “That was—“

“Fucking brilliant? I know. It really was. Best first kiss I’ve ever had. Ten for ten. Would do again and again.” Stiles watches Derek smile slightly. “Yeah, the talking a lot? It’s a thing. You should accept that now or it’s best if we part here as friends who have locked lips.”

“I don’t talk much, so I don’t mind at all.” Derek reaches over to drag his thumb over Stiles’ jaw. “That café isn’t too far. We should get there soon, which is good because I really want to just kiss you again.”

“Food first. Kissing after. Maybe breakfast tomorrow morning.” Stiles takes Derek’s hand and smiles. “Lead the way, Derek.”

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](http://inell.tumblr.com)


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